


Timestamp: Overhaul

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Series: Overhaul [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Friendship, M/M, Relationship Advice, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 04:14:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21368008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: A missing scene fromOverhaul, set somewhere in chapter one. Tony and Natasha have dinner together, and Steve gets brought up.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Natasha Romanoff
Series: Overhaul [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637140
Comments: 37
Kudos: 508





	Timestamp: Overhaul

It occurs to Tony that there have to be people out there (strangers, acquaintances, the sundry busybodies of the world) already making jokes about Tony’s apparent thing for redheads. Never mind that he stopped thinking of Natasha that way ages ago; for if Tony Stark is out on the town with a beautiful woman, _obviously_ there can only be one agenda at play.

In some ways, this is comforting. Tony can speak close into Natasha’s ear, or have Natasha hanging on his arm, or let her drag him in or out of bars and restaurants as she pleases, and it’s all perfectly reasonable. Understandable. Expected.

All the above is simply Tony showing a lady companion a good time the only way that he knows how. For surely, Tony Stark could not be simply hanging out with a friend, let alone be navigating the terrifying waters of an extended conversation where he’s been asking her for brutally frank advice and feedback on how to be less of an asshole as has been his practice for the past four plus decades.

Natasha, of course, finds Tony’s little project hilarious, which is why she is and has been indulging him. They have a corner table tonight, in a packed Greek place Tony can’t remember the name of but Natasha’s always wanted to try (apparently).

“To be honest,” Tony says, and the honesty of _that_ is the real kicker here, “I have no interest in trying to make things up to Wanda. There are things in the universe that even I accept as impossible, and that is one of them. My only interest is in trying to find a dynamic that works.”

“It has to be both ways, though,” Natasha replies. “Wanda has to want to meet you halfway, for the sake of the team.”

“So, what are you saying? That Wanda’s only sticking around because there’s nowhere else in the world that knows what to do with a – a—” Tony fiddles his fingers in the air, two waves back and forth in insufficient shorthand for what Wanda has become.

“That, plus she knows that there’s no making up for the mistakes _she_ and her brother made,” Natasha says. “With her abilities, she could go it alone for sure, if she wanted. But whatever her feelings about you, she still feels that she can accomplish more in a team that has the reach that we have.”

Tony grins. “Is that why _you’re_ still hanging around the Avengers?”

Natasha lifts her drink, and bats her eyelashes over the rim of the glass. “Oh, no. I just hang around to make the most of your bankroll.”

Tony laughs. Natasha doesn’t laugh, but she does the thing with her eyes that’s as good as laughing, and they raise their drinks to each other in a messy clink of glass.

Of all the Avengers – old and new – that Tony’s been trying to clumsily connect with lately, Natasha is the only one with whom it’s gone exactly the way that Tony expected it to. She’d seen right through him from day one, all the way through the bumbling and noise to the intent underneath, and there’s terrifying freedom in that. It’s nice. 

“Wanda is the toughest,” Natasha agrees, a little more somberly. “But I think it’s worthwhile to try.”

“I think so, too,” Tony says with a nod. “But how about this. A two-fer: I take Wanda _and_ Vision to Nice.”

“You really want to third-wheel it?”

“Good point.” Tony thinks. “You want to come?”

“It’s your project.”

“Yeaaaah,” Tony drawls. “Probably best to look at ‘em separately. And at the very least I _know_ what to work on with Wanda. I haven’t the faintest how to start with Wilson.”

“Aside from asking Steve for tips?”

“Why should I ask Cap for tips if I’ve got you?”

“’Cause then you’d have an excuse to bring him out to a place like this?” Natasha looks around, her brow knitting a little. “Maybe not this place specifically, I’m not sure it’s his taste. But that bistro two blocks down, that should be good.”

“Sure, yeah,” Tony says airily, thought he thinks it unlikely that there’ll be a rehash of the outing he had with Steve the other day. Steve had been as surprised by the invite as Tony was himself, and although it turned out all right, the guy hadn’t been able to fully relax; not the way he is around Natasha and Wilson. Which is fair, and Tony knows how to manage his expectations, but—

A thought snaps at Tony’s attention. He looks at Natasha, who’s now poking intently at her sweet dessert, and does not seem to be waiting eagerly for Tony’s response.

Still, Natasha’s specific wording rolls around Tony’s skull: _an excuse to bring him out_.

Tony considers Natasha. It gives his brain something to do while his throat seizes up in a fearful panic as has happened more than once since he got the bright idea to Make the Effort to Communicate, instead of instinctively swallowing everything up and hoping that it does not lead into an explosion in the distant future.

Tony shouldn’t be surprised. This is Natasha, after all. If anyone would see it, it would be her, so the only reason he’s surprised at all is because of his (admittedly flawed) tendency to assume that if _he’s_ ignoring something about himself, everyone else around him is ignoring it as well.

That old instinct comes up now. Change the topic, or at least steer it with a joke. Tony thinks that Natasha would even let him do it because, as she said, it’s his project. But that would defeat the purpose of what he’s doing, or at least _trying_ to do.

“You know,” Tony says. His voice comes out a little funny, so he clears his throat. “I mean. You know about, uh. Steve. Me and Steve. Not that there’s anything going on between me and Steve, but – but me. My… about Steve.”

Natasha has an amazing poker face, even if she deploys it in ways people don’t expect. She smiles, nods, and meets Tony’s gaze with nothing sharper than a friendly eye-crinkle. “Yeah.”

Tony realizes that he’s bracing himself for something else. A knowing or sympathetic look, or even a laugh, right in his face. Because it is laughable, isn’t it? That Tony would fall for Captain America, for Steve, for a man Tony never knows where he stands with and sometimes isn’t even sure if they’re friends. What would even be the point?

“He’s out of my league, I know,” Tony says quickly, pushing past the tightness in his chest. “He’s – he’s so much—I know it’s stupid—”

“It’s not stupid,” Natasha says matter-of-factly.

Still Tony presses on, the words rushing out: “Of course it’s stupid, because it _is_ stupid. It’s stupid to still be – after all this – I thought it’d go away. I really did. I just had to, you know, wait it out, wait until I got tired and would finally stop thinking about him all the time. Because I would, obviously. I always get distracted by new things.”

“Hmm, sure,” Natasha says thoughtfully. “Explains why you’re still dead set on Iron Man and the Avengers, instead of moving on to other defense projects.”

“That’s… not…” Tony swallows.

He could still change the subject. A great part of him _wants_ to change the subject but, god, Natasha’s just sitting there listening as if there’s nothing extraordinary or embarrassing about Tony having feelings for Steve.

Rhodey knows about Tony’s feelings of course, but Rhodey doesn’t know Steve very well either, and can’t say much beyond a vague encouragement that Tony do something or try to forget about it. Since Tony’s been able to do neither, he’d stopped bringing it up.

But Natasha’s a pair of fresh eyes, and unbiased by a decades-long friendship. Tony finds himself yearning, leaning in, wanting to know what she thinks.

“Am I wasting my time?” Tony says. “Wait, no no no, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know.”

Natasha blinks. “You _don’t_ want to know?”

“Correct. Look, I’m trying to be a better teammate, right? It’s a catch-22, intentions count and all that. I can’t be doing this just for him, I have to do it for me. Which I am. And if the end result is that he stops thinking I’m an idiot—”

“Tony—”

“I know, I know,” Tony says, waving it off, “Steve only thinks I’m an idiot as much as I think _he’s_ an idiot. But you get my drift. I do this, and I put myself out there for him, and if he isn’t interested, then at least I’ll know. I can say that I tried, and I can move on.”

At that last flourish, the tension in Tony’s chest eases. It’s said, it’s out, and there is just relief. And that relief feels… good. Tony is really fucking surprised at how good it feels, and he stares at Natasha, who slowly grins back at him.

“Wow,” Tony says.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees. “That almost sounded coherent.”

“Hey,” Tony says with a laugh, “I’m having a moment.”

Though Natasha is often as hard to read as Steve, Tony thinks he can be forgiven for seeing surprise and pride in the warmth of her eyes. Tony realizes just then that no matter what happens next, here’s another inarguably good thing to have come out from his resolution to speak instead of be silent, and so it might be worth it to keep going for a while yet.

“It’s a good moment,” Natasha says.

**Author's Note:**

> [Also on tumblr!](https://no-gorms.tumblr.com/post/188925880501/no-gorms-i-am-productive-for-now-overhaul)
> 
> Thanks out to flyingcaststiel for looking this over. Any remaining mistakes are my own, feel free to point them out in the comments.


End file.
